


The Kingdom's Rich Tapestry II

by Heatherlly



Series: The Heart of Camelot Weekly Drabble Challenges [4]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-21
Updated: 2013-12-13
Packaged: 2017-12-20 21:09:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 7,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/891887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heatherlly/pseuds/Heatherlly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a collection of short drabbles I've submitted for our weekly challenges over at The Heart of Camelot, featuring a variety of genres, characters, pairings and ratings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In the Beginning

**My contribution to our first drabble challenge:** "[ **In the Beginning**](http://theheartofcamelot.com/thread-615.html)"  
 _Share a childhood memory from the perspective of any character you choose._

 **Category:** Gen (Canon)  
 **Characters/Pairings:** Merlin, Hunith  
 **Rating/Warnings:** K  
 **Word Count:** 300

* * *

There was a certain look that would come into his mother's eyes at times – distant, wistful, as if she'd just awoken from some blissful dream into the stark reality of a frigid winter morning. She didn't wear that expression often, certainly not when she was aware that her young son was watching her. Nonetheless, it was a look he came to know well over the years, one that he even began to understand as he grew from a small child into some sort of awkward facsimile of the man he was destined to become.

That was the look she wore when she thought of his father.

Sometimes her expression was peaceful, imbued with traces of quiet joy. On other occasions, her unspoken feelings would make themselves known in a sorrow she did her best to conceal from his notice, marked by a droop in her shoulders and the shimmer of unshed tears in her eyes. And sometimes... not often, but sometimes, she'd seem almost angry as she stared beyond him into a past that he'd never asked her about directly for fear of causing her further grief.

So many unanswered questions... why had his father left them? Perhaps he'd never know, and after all, did it really matter? For his mother's eyes were always there to answer the most important question of all. It was impossible to deny that his father had been a good man, if nothing more than a distant memory was enough to evoke an expression of tenderness on her face that was normally reserved for her son alone.

Yes, no matter what had happened to take his father away, it was abundantly clear that his mother had loved and been truly loved in return. 

For Merlin, that was enough.


	2. Prelude to Darkness

**My contribution to our second drabble challenge:** "[ **Prelude to Darkness**](http://theheartofcamelot.com/thread-615.html)"  
 _Write about a positive experience Uther might've had with magic before Arthur was conceived._

 **Category:** Gen (Canon)  
 **Characters/Pairings:** Uther/Ygraine, Nimueh  
 **Rating/Warnings:** K  
 **Word Count:** 300

* * *

The heavy doors burst open, jarring a pair of drowsy guards back to full attention as the slight figure rushed into the council chamber. "Sire, I was told it was a matter of dire importance," she gasped upon reaching the enthroned figure who'd watched her approach with curiously placid eyes.

"Ah, Nimueh," the king smiled, gesturing to one of the ornate chairs beside him. "Join me."

"Uther, what is it? What's wrong?"

He frowned in confusion as she dropped wearily into the closest seat. "Wrong? Nothing. Ygraine's birthday is two days away and I've no adequate gift to give her. She has a king's ransom in jewels already, fine clothes and countless fripperies… she must have something special this year. Something beautiful…"

Nimueh stared at him, aghast. "You sent me an urgent summons so that we might discuss a _birthday gift?_ "

"Something magical, a gift she'll never forget. Can you come up with something?"

Hot anger flared inside her as she thought of the thrice cursed, possibly dying child whose care she'd had no choice but to entrust to barely tested initiates in order to respond to her "urgent" royal summons. Dire importance indeed… did Uther honestly think she had nothing better to do than await his beck and call like some hapless servant?

 _Obviously, he does,_ she thought, never aware of the humorless smile that Uther mistook for assent as he reached over and patted her hand – such a tiny, but affectionate gesture that had always warmed her heart in the past. And although she was forced to swallow an uncomfortable twinge of shame for failing to call him out on his selfishness, refusing a friend simply wasn't an option in her world.

"It would be my pleasure, sire."


	3. Uncharted Territory

**My contribution to our third drabble challenge:** "[ **Uncharted Territory**](http://theheartofcamelot.com/thread-615.html)"  
 _Choose a character, pairing, genre or trope you've never written before and explore it!_

 **Category:**  Slash (Canon)  
 **Characters/Pairings:**  Merlin/Mordred  
 **Rating/Warnings:** T  
 **Word Count:** 300  
 **Author's Note:** I haven't written much slash  in this fandom, but if I ever do, I'm pretty sure it'll be about this pair.  I love them together.

* * *

Mordred understood the strange light in Merlin's eyes only too well, though it was so subtle that any casual observer would never notice the difference. The residue of magic still glittered within those that seemingly ordinary blue irises, making them a shade brighter, just a touch more fierce than they would have been on any other day. Yes, it took a fellow sorcerer to recognize that particular look and identify its cause… the overflow of energy that remained behind for hours, sometimes even days, in the aftermath of channeling a great deal of power through one's body.

Few magic users could last long without an outlet for such an extreme feeling of restlessness, which begged the question as to why Merlin was simply sitting there staring out into the darkness. More than that, he'd no doubt endured this feeling dozens of times throughout his years of service to Arthur. How did he manage to find any relief? It wasn't as if he could commit a random act of violence like some rogue sorcerer, or had many opportunities to couple with a willing person as was common among the Druids. How did he not go _insane?!_

And then all thought fell to the wayside as Merlin met his eyes from across the campfire. There was wariness in that stare, of course, a deep distrust Mordred had begun to despise more fiercely with each passing day. But there was something else within those depths, too… something that would never be acknowledged aloud and yet wouldn't be refused if offered. And at least for now, that _something_ was more powerful than all the suspicion in the world.

Mordred rose to his feet and stepped away into the shadows, smiling to himself as he listened to the tread of quiet footsteps behind him.


	4. Knocking Is Overrated

**My contribution to our fourth drabble challenge:** "[ **Knocking Is Overrated**](http://theheartofcamelot.com/thread-615.html)"  
 _Write about one character catching another in an awkward or potentially embarrassing situation._

 **Category:** Gen (Canon AU)  
 **Characters/Pairings:**  Merlin, Arthur  
 **Rating/Warnings:** K  
 **Word Count:**  300

* * *

The king gave no thought to his actions as he flung the door open with an irritated bellow of, "Merlin!"

A sharp gasp ricocheted off the chamber walls. Visibly trembling, the figure on the bed curled protectively around the object he was holding, then raised a pair of horrified eyes to meet those of the man he served. It was only a momentary thing, that flash of terror, only the span of a heartbeat before muscles rigid with tension abruptly relaxed. And then Merlin laughed, a hollow, self-conscious sound that tugged at Arthur's heartstrings rather than setting him at ease as was clearly the intention.

"It's all right, Merlin," he said softly, trying to ignore the wary look that was cast his way as the book of spells was placed gently on the table.

Would it always be like this? It had been almost a year since he'd discovered the truth, nearly that long since the ban on magic had been lifted. Sorcerers with no ill intent were now allowed to practice freely within the Kingdom of Camelot, and yet…

… and yet the fear never faded. It was there in the cautious movements of the Druids, who stayed just long enough to gather supplies before leaving as quietly as they'd come. It remained in the old apothecary, who still hesitated before offering his most effective remedies. Most of all, that fear was in this man, loyal servant and friend, the last person in the kingdom who should have any reason to doubt his word.

Arthur let out a resigned sigh and turned to go, resolved to be patient and allow wounds to heal in their own time. "Merlin?" he called back over his shoulder.

"Sire?"

"Speeches don't just write themselves, you know."


	5. Shades of Gray

**My contribution to our fifth drabble challenge:** "[ **Shades of Gray**](http://theheartofcamelot.com/thread-615.html)"  
 _Choose a character that is considered "evil" on the show and give them a redeeming quality._

 **Category:** Gen (Canon)  
 **Characters/Pairings:** Myror  
 **Rating/Warnings:** K+  
 **Word Count:** 300

* * *

A man didn't have to enjoy a job to be good at it. All he needed was a reason, a purpose, something driving him forward that wouldn't allow for the possibility of failure. That was how a simple farmer became the most feared assassin in five kingdoms.

Had circumstances been different, he could've happily spent his life doing nothing more than tending his crops and raising his children, then resting in the shade when life's final season crept into his tired old bones. Yes, Myror could've been content with such a life, without a trace of doubt that he'd made the right choice.

But such things were not to be. He realized that unfortunate truth when his young wife fell ill, and he could find no remedy with which to save her. A witch's curse, they said as he wept beside her funeral pyre, though he'd never know the reason behind such cruelty.

She was the first to die by his hand, the wretched crone who'd rained down her hatred upon the woman he loved. But how could she be the last, when his only child became crippled with the same affliction, and the promise of salvation came upon the final breaths he choked from that wizened old body?

"Worth a fortune, and all for naught if it's not administered upon the night of each new moon." And then she cackled, a final rally just before the death rattle. "No hope for one such as you, unless you're hiding a king's ransom in that filthy hovel of yours."

No, a man didn't have to enjoy a job to be good at it. All that mattered was that it paid more gold in a day than he'd ever thought to see in a lifetime.


	6. An Honest Confession

**My contribution to our sixth drabble challenge:** "[ **An Honest Confession**](http://theheartofcamelot.com/thread-615.html)"  
 _Have one character admit a previously hidden truth to another in a way that never happened on the show._

 **Category:** Gen (Canon)  
 **Characters/Pairings:** Lancelot, Arthur, Merlin  
 **Rating/Warnings:** K  
 **Word Count:** 300  
 **Author's Note:**  Set during episode 1x05.

* * *

"Nice work, Lancelot."

The young recruit glanced at the pristine stalls around him, feeling a flash of pride that was immediately overcome by a deep sense of shame. True, the stable was spotless, but most of the filth had ended up on his own clothing… garments so fine he hadn't had any business wearing them in the first place.

It was no way to present himself to a prince… and yet being discovered like this, humble, dirty, and exhausted after a day's work, felt more right to Lancelot than all the things he'd done to ingratiate himself to Arthur since coming to Camelot. This was who he truly was, after all, a simple commoner who knew a great deal about manual labor and far too little about titles, wealth, and proper bloodlines. This was his reality, a truth that couldn't be denied by a stolen seal and a fine tabard.

What had he been thinking when he'd agreed to this deception? If everything he wanted came to pass and he was awarded the knighthood he'd dreamed of, how could he bring himself to accept all the privilege he'd surely be given, all while knowing it was based on a lie? Worse, what if the truth were ever revealed? How could he live with himself if those who'd helped him were discover and punished for their part in his crimes?

No… a knighthood might yet be in his future, but not like this. Not if it meant having to defy everything that word was supposed to symbolize in the first place – honor, justice… truth.

Knowing what he had to do, Lancelot swallowed hard and raised his eyes to meet Arthur's surprisingly gentle blue gaze.

"Sire, I have a confession to make."


	7. Continuation

**My contribution to our seventh drabble challenge:** "[ **Continuation**](http://theheartofcamelot.com/thread-615.html)"  
 _Choose one character (other than Arthur) who was killed on the show and write about their potential involvement (if they'd lived) in an episode that occurred after their death._

 **Category:** Gen (Canon AU)  
 **Characters/Pairings:** Arthur, Merlin, Will  
 **Rating/Warnings:** K  
 **Word Count:** 350

* * *

"He broke the law, Merlin. There's nothing I can do."

"He saved your _life!_ "

Arthur's face was impassive, his jaw rigid and unyielding as he stared out over the gathered crowd. He bore an uncanny resemblance to his father in that moment, but with one glaring exception – there was no hiding the guilt, the compassion, even something that looked a lot like remorse in the depths of his troubled eyes.

"Please, Arthur."

"He shouldn't have survived in the first place," the prince interrupted flatly. "Any other man would've been dead in minutes – you know that as well as I do. He healed himself with magic, didn't he? And if he can do that, who knows…?"

"He's my friend."

"I'm sorry, Merlin. I'm willing to pardon you for not telling me the truth, but I cannot do the same for him. He knew the risk he was taking…"

But Merlin wasn't listening anymore. He was too busy staring in horror at the frightened young man who was being lashed to the pyre just a few yards away.

"He knew the consequences of his actions. Sorcery is strictly forbidden."

The executioner was moving closer, flaming torch held aloft as the crowd shouted and jeered their encouragement. Closer, closer… the prisoner was weeping openly now, but he didn't beg for mercy, nor did he confess the one secret that would've saved him from such a terrible fate. _Closer…_

"This has to stop," Merlin said abruptly.

"Merlin, I can't…"

"He's not the sorcerer, Arthur. I am."

"Look, I know what you're trying to do, but…"

But Merlin was already moving forward with an incantation on his lips that grew louder with every word he spoke. A dense fog spread throughout the courtyard, so thick and opaque that it was only penetrated by the terrified screams of the bewildered crowd. And then just like that, it was gone.

" _Seize them!_ " King Uther bellowed from the balcony above.

But it was too late. Merlin and Will had disappeared.


	8. Claiming Kin

**My contribution to our eighth drabble challenge:** "[ **Claiming Kin**](http://theheartofcamelot.com/thread-615.html)"  
 _Invent a previously unknown family member for one of the knights and write a drabble about that character._

 **Category:** Gen (Canon)  
 **Characters/Pairings:** Leon  
 **Rating/Warnings:** K  
 **Word Count:** 300

* * *

"Your father left to fight in Uther's wars and never returned. I couldn't bear to lose you as well."

"Mother…" The gangly youth crossed the chamber and knelt beside his mother's chair, clasping one of her warm little hands in his own. 

Everyone said he looked like her, with the same soft hazel eyes and honey colored curls. Hers were turning gray now, and yet she was no less beautiful than she'd been in her younger years. Even the lines on her face couldn't detract from that, not when they were the natural result of decades filled with loving smiles and gentle laughter, endless worry and the deepest sorrow. She looked so fragile sitting there beside the fire – how could he bring himself to leave her? 

"I know," she interrupted softly when he opened his mouth to speak again. "I know this is something you must do, and I will not attempt to convince you otherwise. Just please…"

"I'll be careful, Mother."

She shook her head. "That isn't enough. Here, take this."

The object she pressed into his hand was small and round, seeming to vibrate with some restless energy as he held it up for closer inspection. It was a medallion of sorts, a simple disk of silver with what appeared to be a hawthorn tree etched in the center. "A talisman? Mother, you know if I'm found with something like this…"

"Then be sure it's never discovered, because I refuse to send you off to be a soldier without it. It might very well save your life one day."

Leon smiled. "Our secret?" he said almost playfully, and they both knew he was referring to much more than the charm that was dangling from his fingers.

"Our secret."


	9. Off on Vacation

**My contribution to our ninth drabble challenge:** "[ **Off on Vacation**](http://theheartofcamelot.com/thread-615.html)"  
 _Write a canon era drabble in which one of the characters takes a holiday from Camelot. Where do they go and what do they do?_

 **Category:** Gen (Canon)  
 **Characters/Pairings:** Gwen, Hunith, Mary (character from 4x08 "Lamia")  
 **Rating/Warnings:** K  
 **Word Count:** 300

* * *

"Your highness," the stout woman proclaimed, dropping into an awkward curtsy that had her wobbling back and forth with the effort not to topple over. "To what do I owe this honor?"

Gwen's cheeks turned red as she tried to ignore the curious stares of the other villagers. "Oh, stop it, Mary," she muttered under her breath. "Please. I'm only Gwen, just as you've always known me. I don't need any special treatment. Really, I don't."

"But you're queen now!" Mary blinked up at her owlishly. "Wouldn't be right not to show proper respect."

"Even if I command it?"

Mary paused at that, her brow furrowing in confusion. "I… I don't know, your highness."

Gwen sighed. It had taken quite a bit of maneuvering to have a week to herself, and she'd already wasted three days on this sort of nonsense. First there had been the former scullery maid, once one of her closest friends, who'd refused to let her inside because her home "wasn't fit for royalty." And then there'd been the fruit merchant, an effusive little woman who'd once been her favorite source for idle gossip, who wouldn't stop asking questions about the cost of her gown and whether or not she slept on silken sheets.

Where were all her old friends? Why couldn't anyone treat her as they had before she'd married Arthur?

But then as Mary babbled on about appropriate protocol and how wonderful it must be to live in a palace, Gwen suddenly knew exactly what she needed. Ealdor. Yes, it was definitely time to pay Merlin's mother a visit.

By the following night, she was dressed in one of Hunith's stained old aprons, scrubbing pots and chopping carrots as she smiled to herself in contentment.


	10. Thwarting Destiny

**My contribution to our tenth drabble challenge:** "[ **Thwarting Destiny**](http://theheartofcamelot.com/thread-615.html)"  
 _Share an experience that might have happened in Merlin's life if he and Arthur had never met._

 **Category:** Gen (Canon AU)  
 **Characters/Pairings:**  Merlin, Druids  
 **Rating/Warnings:** K  
 **Word Count:** 380  
 **Author's Note:** I went over my limit again. Oh well. :)  
In case it isn't obvious, this is set during the first episode. Merlin witnesses the execution and decides he'd rather not stick around.

* * *

_Th-thud…_

The somber cadence of drums still echoed in his head long after he'd fled the city, beating in time with his racing heart as he ran blindly through the trees.

_Th-thud… Th-thud…_

It was a sound he'd never forget, for it existed in all the terrible things he'd witnessed that day. The king with the ice cold stare, that awful finality in his voice when he passed sentence… and then the proclamation that struck with the force of a hammer hitting an anvil.

"Such practices are banned on penalty of death."

**Thud!**

It resonated again throughout the courtyard, a sickening crunch as metal sliced through flesh before the man's head hit the ground, staring out at the gaping crowd through sightless eyes.

Thud.

Merlin had gone to Camelot with the highest hopes, filled with grand visions of a life he'd only read about in storybooks. It was for his own safety, his mother had said, but he hadn't thought too much about it at the time. He'd just agreed to keep certain things to himself – no big deal, right?

Wrong.

Knowing sorcery was frowned upon was one thing – finding out that anything that even hinted at magic was worthy of a death sentence was quite another. He could only assume his mother hadn't understood either – otherwise, why had she sent him there, entrusting his protection to one frail old man?

Too exhausted to continue, he stopped in a secluded glade, managing to kindle a tiny fire that did nothing to penetrate the chilly fog that had descended over the forest. Instinct rather than conscious thought had him staring into the flames, willing them to burn bigger, brighter, warmer…

That was how they found him, slipping silently from the trees to form a circle around the clearing. Maybe he should've been afraid, but somehow, he couldn't quite manage it. No, fear was to be found in the awful thudding of drums, in the merciless eyes of a tyrant passing the same sentence upon the innocent and guilty alike. It wasn't here in this place, where only the most gentle voices spoke to him from the darkness.

"Is there anything we can do to help you?"


	11. Crossing Paths

**My contribution to our 11th drabble challenge:** "[ **Crossing Paths**](http://theheartofcamelot.com/thread-615.html)"  
 _Write about an encounter between two characters who never actually met on the show._

 **Category:** Gen (Canon)  
 **Characters/Pairings:** Gwaine, Lady Vivian  
 **Rating/Warnings:** K  
 **Word Count:** 345

* * *

"A love spell?" Gwaine shot Merlin a skeptical glance before returning his attention to the the courtyard below. "I'm not so sure about that."

Merlin shrugged. "It must have worn off. Most of them do sooner or later… at least, that's what I've heard."

Vivian's shrill voice grew louder, floating up to the window as she continued her tirade. "… also require a personal escort and no less than three attendants at all times. _Good_ servants, Arthur, not that lazy…"

"Guinevere is queen now," Arthur interrupted firmly.

"So? That still doesn't mean I want her waiting on me."

For a moment, it appeared as if the king might come back with a suitable response; instead, he just took Vivian's arm and escorted her up the steps.

"Why does he put up with it?" Gwaine said, shaking his head as he fought to control his laughter.

"Her father is an important ally. Also… well, you know how he is."

"Only rude to his friends?" He grinned as Merlin tried to hide a smirk. "Right, well, tell him I'd like to volunteer my services as her escort."

"What?!"

* * *

Gwaine patiently withstood Vivian's inspection, never realizing that he was preening just a little under the scrutiny of the admittedly beautiful woman. Finally, she stepped back and let out a delicate snort.

"Well, I suppose it could've been worse. At least he didn't send me someone like that Elliot," she paused and gave a visible shudder. "That one obviously only has the job he does because he's the queen's brother, and I don't know about you, but I find him very strange."

"Elyan."

"Who cares? Anyway, I do hope you're planning on shaving your beard before the feast tonight. And I must insist that you find something to wear besides that hideous chain mail. Oh, and…"

"No."

Vivian looked at him, stunned. "Pardon me?"

"No," he repeated, giving her his best charming smile.

It was going to be an interesting week.


	12. Fine Tuning

**My contribution to our 12th drabble challenge:** "[ **Fine Tuning**](http://theheartofcamelot.com/thread-615.html)"  
 _Choose one of your least favorite episodes, then use your drabble to provide a synopsis for an episode to replace it._

 **Category:** Gen (Canon AU)  
 **Characters/Pairings:** Morgana, Morgause   
**Rating/Warnings:** K  
 **Word Count:** 313  
 **Author's Note:** Written as a trailer for Episode 3x03 "The Old Ways" (replacement for "Goblin's Gold")

* * *

"The voices of the fallen are crying out for vengeance, Sister," Morgause whispers as she kneels at Morgana's bedside. "Can you hear their call? It is louder in this place than any other, for this was once their sacred home. Now it is ours."

Morgana looks up at her uncertainly, and it's obvious that she's still recovering from Merlin's attempt to poison her. She's thin, pale, and her fingers tremble slightly as she reaches for the other woman's hand. A lone candle lights the ancient ruins; ivy hangs from archways and casts eerie shadows across what appears to be an altar of sorts.

"I... I don't have your powers. I... I hear nothing."

Morgause's lips slowly curve into a smile. "Oh, but you will soon enough. It is in your blood. My blood. Mordred's blood."

Morgana looks surprised. "The Druid boy? You know him?"

"Oh yes," Morgause lets out a sudden laugh. "You might say that."

The scene shifts, and we're given a deeper look into various events that took place during Morgana's year away from Camelot. She is teetering on the brink, obviously torn between the person she once was and who she's yet to become, a vulnerability Morgause uses to her full advantage as she begins Morgana's instruction in the ways of the ancient priestesses.

"This is our birthright, Sister, a path we must accept whether we might wish it otherwise or not. We are the protectors, the defenders, the mothers who must ensure the continuation of our kind. For everything we were and might yet be again, we have no choice but to strike at the very heart of all who oppose us. So I must ask you now – are you ready?"

The screen goes black at the end of the trailer, completely silent beyond two words:

"I'm ready."


	13. The Cup of Life

**My contribution to our 13th drabble challenge:** "[ **The Cup of Life**](http://theheartofcamelot.com/thread-615.html)"  
 _Come up with an idea as to what might have happened to the Cup of Life following its disappearance at the end of Series 3. You can simply locate it and explain how it got there, or you can have a particular character (original or canon or even historical) making use of it at some future time._

 **Category:** Gen (Canon AU)  
 **Characters/Pairings:** Merlin, Lancelot  
 **Rating/Warnings:** K  
 **Word Count:** 363  
 **Author's Note:** Still not over the travesty of 4x09. Nope.

* * *

Merlin carefully arranged the last of the cut flowers around the body of his fallen friend, then paused to touch the cold, still face with gentle fingers. If there was one thing to be grateful for in the midst of such tragedy, it was that Arthur had at least permitted Lancelot to be given a decent burial.

Well, not exactly. 

"Take care of it, Merlin," was what he'd said brusquely, effectively washing his hands of a reality that was simply too difficult to bear. Merlin couldn't blame him, really. How could one reconcile the most loyal of knights with the coldhearted betrayer who had returned in his place?

Still, the worst part was that none of the others had even suspected something was wrong, that they'd so easily mistaken such a pale imitation for the Lancelot they all remembered.

"And now they'll never know the truth," he whispered sadly to his unresponsive companion.

Having already endured the grief process the first time around, Merlin had eventually come to terms with the idea that his friend was lost to him forever. If nothing else, he'd had the comfort of knowing that Lancelot had left behind a fitting legacy to a life that had only ever been lived with honor. But this… to be remembered as a traitorous coward for crimes he'd never even committed?

"No…"

He'd already memorized the words that would free Lancelot's true spirit, bringing him back to himself for a few precious moments before the former knight succumbed to death once more. But it wasn't enough… Merlin, and indeed the entire kingdom, owed him so much more than that.

It was then he remembered the golden cup hidden deep in the catacombs of the Citadel, placed there immediately following the battle in which it might very well have been used to destroy all their lives. If not for Lancelot's bravery, his faith and loyalty in standing beside Merlin when all seemed lost…

"Drink," he commanded urgently just a few minutes later, pressing the cup to Lancelot's lips as the tiny flicker of life in his eyes rapidly began to wane. "Drink…"


	14. Puppy Love

**My contribution to our 14th drabble challenge:** "[ **Puppy Love**](http://theheartofcamelot.com/thread-615.html)"  
 _Write about one of the character's very first crushes, making the object of that infatuation a character of your own invention. :)_

 **Category:** Het (Canon)  
 **Characters/Pairings:** Merlin, Mari (OC)  
 **Rating/Warnings:** K  
 **Word Count:** 366

* * *

Most of the boys in the village never paid any attention to Mari. Compared with other girls who were prettier and much more outgoing, she simply faded into the background, and was far too serious for their liking anyway.

That wasn't to say she was unattractive; the freckles on her pert little nose would've been quite endearing if any of them had looked that closely, and her thick curls were a pleasant shade of chestnut brown, tumbling over her shoulders in a riotous cloud that was strangely at odds with her quiet, unassuming personality. And when she smiled – not something that happened often, unfortunately – she could almost be described as beautiful. But she kept to herself more often than not, and it became a matter of course to ignore her in return.

Mari wasn't the only one who'd lost her father at a young age, but she was alone in having been unfortunate enough to lose her mother at the same time. She'd done everything on her own from that moment on, throwing herself into the duties of housekeeping and child rearing with all the dedication of a seasoned mother rather than a 13-year-old playing at house. Indeed, the others didn't see her for who she truly was because they rarely saw her at all – there was little time for socializing when there were mouths to feed and diapers to change, dishes to be scrubbed and laundry to be done.

No, few ever noticed the compassion in her eyes, the wisdom of a woman combined with the sweet innocence of youth. Only one was lucky enough to get that close, a boy who also knew a thing or two about how it felt to be different than everyone else. 

It happened quite by accident – a spilled pail of milk, followed by an outburst of tears that would've never happened if she'd known anyone was nearby.

"Here, have half of mine," he'd said, giving her an awkward pat on the shoulder. And she'd never know it, but the gratitude in her eyes had claimed a tiny piece of his heart that would forever belong to her.


	15. The Old Ways

**My contribution to our 15th drabble challenge:** "[ **The Old Ways**](http://theheartofcamelot.com/thread-615.html)"  
 _Write about at least one of the characters who happens to have magic observing one of the traditional Pagan holidays._

 **Category:** Het (Canon AU)  
 **Characters/Pairings:** Merlin/Morgana  
 **Rating/Warnings:** K+  
 **Word Count:** 362  
 **Author's Note:** Alternate universe where Uther has been deposed, Merlin and Morgana know about one another's magic, and the latter isn't crazypants.

* * *

Around and around the bonfire they danced, their bodies swaying in time with rhythmic drumbeats as the sound of their celebration echoed through the trees.

Indeed, the forest itself understood the importance of this ritual, even as the very earth beneath their feet and sky above their heads cradled them in a warm, approving embrace. It was said that in times nearly forgotten, it had never rained on the night of Beltane wherever magic was present. Only when the betrayer had come into power, usurping all that was natural in favor of cruelty and blind hatred, had the storms come, the month of May ushered in by a devastating clash of the elements for every year of his reign.

The dark times were over now, the truth of which was marked beyond denial in the twinkling stars that were scattered across the crystal clear firmament. No more was their world obscured by shadow – the crescent moon above bathed them in its gentle glow, the first illumination to mark the dawning of a brand new era.

He wasn't thinking about the ritual itself, however, or the enormity of what it meant to be able to observe it freely at long last. No, everything he'd been and ever would be was all wrapped up in her in that moment, captivated by flashing green eyes and long black curls rippling in the night breeze as she turned gracefully on one heel and reached out her hand to beckon him closer.

Fingers entwined, they disappeared into a nearby thicket, quickly losing themselves amidst cries of pleasure and the blissful sensation of skin upon sweat slicked skin. They didn't emerge when the fire burned low, nor did they appear when the first light of dawn spilled over the horizon. This was Beltane, after all, a celebration of the renewal of life and indeed of life itself. And in the end, there was no better way to honor that tradition than through the seed that chose to take root that night… a seed that would flourish in the sunlight of a world that was finally permitted to embrace his kind once more.


	16. Going Meta

**My contribution to our 16th drabble challenge:** "[ **Going Meta**](http://theheartofcamelot.com/thread-615.html)"  
 _Choose a fan fiction that is posted here on the site, then write a drabble that is inspired by it._

 **Category:** Gen (Canon)  
 **Characters/Pairings:** Arthur  
 **Rating/Warnings:** K+  
 **Word Count:** 337  
 **Author's Note:** This is inspired by Ryne's hilarious drabble "Duty" in which Uther is obligated to trim his nose hairs (PM me for the link). I thought it might be fun to explore someone else's embarrassing grooming habits. :)

* * *

**Vanity**

Arthur Pendragon stripped off the last of his clothing and sauntered over to the mirror, scrutinizing his naked body from head to toe before giving a satisfied nod. True, every man had his flaws, but how many of them could boast of biceps as well formed as his?

Flexing his muscles, he ran his fingers across the rock hard surface, forgoing the activity after a few minutes in order to admire the breadth of his shoulders, his fine pectorials, tapering down to a narrow waist. "Merlin must be mad, calling me fat," he said to himself, his eyes passing over unmentionable areas and coming to rest on a pair of solid thighs. He grabbed his sword and crouched into a warrior's stance, letting out a mighty growl as he stared menacingly at his own reflection.

Indeed, it was no wonder countless knights tried to imitate him. It came as no surprise either that so many women found him irresistible, what with his hair of spun gold and a profile that was as chiseled as a statue carved by the most gifted stone crafter in five kingdoms. Yes, from the front, he was **perfect**.

Unfortunately, from behind was another matter entirely.

"Must you do that every time?" a familiar voice said on the heels of an exasperated sigh.

"Shut up, Merlin," he grumbled, then stalked away from the mirror to lay facedown across the bed. "Just get on with it before I put you in the stocks."

Muttering under his breath, Merlin unscrewed the lid of the large jar he was holding, making a disgusted face at the odor of pungent herbs before scooping up a handful and spreading it across the other man's back.

"You could just leave it alone, you know," he pointed out for what was probably the hundredth time. "Lots of men have hairy backs. Well, maybe not as hairy as _yours_ , but…"

"Merlin…"

"Arthur _does_ mean 'bear' in the old tongue…"

" _Merlin!_ "


	17. Three Sheets to the Wind

**My contribution to our 17th drabble challenge:** "[ **Three Sheets to the Wind**](http://theheartofcamelot.com/thread-615.html)"  
 _Get a character drunk and have them do something they wouldn't normally do._

 **Category:** Slash (Canon)  
 **Characters/Pairings:** Merlin/Arthur  
 **Rating/Warnings:** K+  
 **Word Count:** 397  
 **Author's Note:** This was one of the most difficult to trim down, which probably means I should be writing this pair a little more often. I don't do enough slash.

* * *

"Another round!" Arthur shouted, chuckling at the slur in his voice. 

"Sire," Elyan said tentatively. "Don't you think you've had enough?"

Arthur's scowl might have been intimidating if it hadn't been immediately followed by an enormous belch. "Told you not to call me that here. Not your king, just a regular…"

"Drunkard?" 

"Shut up, Merlin, or I'll put you in the stocks."

"Ah, but ordinary people can't do that. Sorry, Arthur."

"But I'm… I'm not…" Arthur shook his head in frustration, choosing to change the subject instead. "What do you do in these places when I'm not around?"

"Drink," Gwaine said with a grin.

"Play cards," Leon chimed in.

"Arm wrestle," Percival added after a moment.

"Arm wrestling! Like the sound of that."

"Arthur… Percival's never been defeated. And in your current state…"

The king collapsed into a chair, his eyes lighting up in sudden inspiration. "Let's put a wager on it!"

"I don't have much gold." 

"Who said anything about money? Hmm... oh, I've got it! When I defeat you, you have to… kiss Merlin!"

Merlin looked appalled. "Arthur, you _can't_ be serious."

"What do you say, Percival?"

"I-uh… if that's what you wish, sire. And if I win?"

Arthur let out an arrogant laugh. "On the unlikely chance you do, _I'll_ kiss Merlin."

Five minutes later, a shamefaced Arthur stood before his equally embarrassed servant, determined to get it over with as quickly as possible.

He wasn't prepared for the softness of that mouth, however, nor the intoxicating flavor of honey and spices that danced across his tongue. It could have been mere seconds or hours… suddenly, he was floating, falling, completely enraptured by the unexpected jolt of pleasure as the other man's lips parted beneath his own. When it was over, he pulled back and stared, recognizing the same expression of awe mirrored back at him from a pair of wide, wondering eyes that were far more blue than he'd ever realized.

One heartbeat, a soft, gasping breath, and then he came crashing back to the reality of everything he was and all the things that couldn't be.

"Go muck out my stables," he said gruffly.

"But we're not even in Cam..."

" _Now_ , Merlin!"


	18. Tokens of the Past

**My contribution to our 18th drabble challenge:** "[ **Tokens of the Past**](http://theheartofcamelot.com/thread-615.html)"  
 _Write about an artifact or heirloom that has been passed down through the generations. Just make sure it's of your own creation, not something we already saw on the show._

 **Category:** Gen (Canon)  
 **Characters/Pairings:** Tom, Gwen  
 **Rating/Warnings:** K  
 **Word Count:** 394  
 **Author's Note:** I love new headcanons.

* * *

Tom had never told his daughter about the buttons, carefully stored away in a tiny wooden box. They'd belonged to her mother, finely etched ornaments of the purest silver that had been passed down through the family for decades, if not centuries. There were conflicting stories as to their origin – one tale was that they'd been a tribute of gratitude from a noblewoman following many years of exemplary service, while the other insisted they'd been a token bequeathed by an impassioned lover who'd concealed a penchant for thievery, only to meet his fate at the end of a rope.

Tom had wanted to give them to Gwen for years following his wife's death, but something had always stopped him from doing so. Perhaps it was that such finery only served to emphasize just how humble their circumstances were, so much less than he'd hoped for on behalf of either of his children. And so he kept them to himself… until a twist of fate promised to change his fortunes forever.

Having the seamstress attach them to the fine dress he'd commissioned was a stroke of genius – seeing Gwen's eyes light up made it all worthwhile, urging him to set aside any lingering reservations about how he'd earned the coin to pay for the garment.

He meant to tell her about the buttons right then and there, and then at dinner the night before he was arrested, even after the fact as he sat in his cell awaiting his freedom. For what man could truly accept the reality of his own demise until it was actually upon him? Indeed, it wasn't until the blade pierced him through that he realized the enormity of what he'd done in keeping his silence – not only about the buttons, but so many other things as well. There was so much his daughter would never know, couldn't possibly understand about where she'd come from and the world in which she lived. 

Too late… much too late…

But what Tom didn't live to see was the way Gwen carefully cut loose the buttons, tucking them away in a little pouch before discarding the dress she never wanted to see again. For there were some things, the deepest and most important truths of all, that didn't require words to be understood.


	19. Off the Beaten Path

**My contribution to our 19th drabble challenge:** "[ **Off the Beaten Path**](http://theheartofcamelot.com/thread-615.html)"  
 _Choose an uncommon/unusual romantic pairing and write a drabble about them. It must be one you've never written about before._

 **Category:** Het (Canon)  
 **Characters/Pairings:** Sir Leon/Morgana  
 **Rating/Warnings:** M  
 **Word Count:** 386  
 **Author's Note:** Poor Sir Leon… he never gets as much action as he deserves.

* * *

"My lady, are you all right? I thought I heard a disturbance in your chamber."

Morgana hid a smile before affecting a comically exaggerated expression of distress. "Oh yes, you must help me, Sir Leon! There's a rat in my wardrobe!"

"A… rat?" The handsome young knight struggled to keep a straight face as he stepped inside and pretended to inspect the perfectly ordered chamber. "Where did you say it was?"

"Over there… the biggest I've ever seen! It must have been the size of one of Arthur's hunting hounds!"

"This is a serious matter," Leon said gravely. "A rodent that size… sorcery may very well be involved. I think it's best that we secure the door to your chamber until it is found and slain."

Morgana lowered her head, but not before Leon caught a glimpse of the mischievous light in her eyes. She nodded, pasting on her best expression of weary annoyance as she cast a surreptitious glance at the door. "Very well," she said with a sigh. "I just hope it doesn't take all night. I do need my rest, you know."

Satisfied that the performance had been sufficient to fool any eavesdroppers, Leon shut the door with a resounding thud. Under any other circumstances, he might have burst out laughing, but it had been far too long since they'd been alone and he didn't intend to waste even a second of such a precious opportunity. Caution was of the utmost importance, of course; if anyone ever discovered the truth…

But there was no room to think about the risk involved when they fell into each other's arms, lost in a flurry of hungry kisses and soft, gasping breaths as he slid the nightgown from her shoulders, then lifted her in his arms and settled her gently among the pillows. Only a few minutes later and he was poised above her, ready, so very ready to bury himself in the softness between her thighs. He hesitated, however, his lips curving upward in sudden amusement.

"Still want me to be quick about it? I know you need your rest, my lady."

"Mmmm…" Morgana breathed as she wrapped a slender leg around his waist and urged his mouth down to meet hers. "Perhaps not."


	20. A Better Way

**My contribution to our 20th drabble challenge:** "[ **A Better Way**](http://theheartofcamelot.com/thread-615.html)"  
 _Choose one thing you wish would've happened in the two-parter finale of the show and write about it! Just try not to go with "Arthur lives"... that one is a little too obvious. :)_

 **Category:** Gen (Canon AU)  
 **Characters/Pairings:** Arthur, Morgana  
 **Rating/Warnings:** T  
 **Word Count:** 397  
 **Author's Note:** I desperately wanted a moment of clarity for Morgana at the end. This is my version of that.

* * *

Morgana felt the blade plunge into her brother's flesh, white-hot and seething with the culmination of countless years of vengeful hatred. The sensation was followed by a terrible burning deep within, as if her soul were being torn apart by some razor toothed demon from beyond the veil. Her features contorted in agony and then came the screams, piercing the air like daggers as she gave voice to her wordless torment.

Why didn't Arthur cry out? His suffering was hers; she felt his silent anguish as his life's blood spilled out across the ground.

But there was truth in that silence, a reckoning that couldn't be denied as she dragged herself to his side by painful inches. Everything she'd forgotten was there in the stubborn set of his jaw, the determination to meet his death with dignity no matter how much more it hurt to hold his tongue. It was there in muscles trembling with the effort to maintain control, found in the perspiration beading his forehead, mingling with tears seeping forth from his tightly closed eyes, diluting the tiny droplets of blood as he bit his lip hard, and then harder still, to hold his screams at bay.

Arthur would never voice his suffering to countless soldiers who looked to him as the living embodiment of hopeful courage. No anguished screams would reach the queen who'd soon be forced to face the awful reality of life without her king at her side. No, Arthur would die bravely for their sake, unselfish to the end.

Morgana began to weep upon that realization, her body heaving as she knelt beside her brother. The last traces of hatred melted away like snow beneath a summer sun and then she was spent, lying exhausted on the bloodsoaked ground with one limp hand gripped tightly in her own. She felt rather than saw the shadow's approach, half expecting a mortal blow that never came.

"It's over, Morgana," he said instead, his voice soft and sad.

"It should've never begun."

"I…" 

But what could Merlin say that she didn't already know? She'd deal with the guilt and shame later, the endless search for an absolution that would never be hers. For now, there was only a single thought as Arthur Pendragon drew his final breaths.

"I'll get the boat, Morgana. Let's take him home."


End file.
